Self Destruction
by Moonsetta
Summary: Angst. All in all...poor Mikey.


I don't own TMNT.

* * *

_Punch!_

_Punch!_

_Punch!_

Air. Slipping through his hand with every forceful thrust of a balled up fist. No solid surface to connect with. This was why Raph used a punching bag, why he was always using it. The earlier handstands and normally energetic flips hadn't helped either. His attempt at reaching calm with Leo's mediating techniques only lead to building up too much energy and he didn't even want to think back to his horrible experience with Don's crossword puzzle book. Were some of those even words?

Michelangelo Hamato doubted it. Big brains like Don probably just made those words up to annoy people like him!

The laughter in the back of his brain at the statement though, didn't reach his face. A siren sounded out over the New York City night air causing the youngest member of the Hamato clan to stare out and over the shadow-drenched streets of NYC at night. His normally open eyes were fighting the urge to narrow. Come on, he didn't want to end up looking like Raph did he?

A groan passed his throat and Mikey fell out of his stance before slumping down on the rooftop beneath his feet. Both pairs of knees and hands met the granite below. Annoying drops formed at the bend of his eyes as he tried to focus on the material beneath him and just breathe. He had to look at this…positively. Yeah. Deep breaths. It was a fairly warm night, so he didn't have to run around like usual to warm up as he would have to do on the city's chillier evenings. Heck, he lived in New York City! There was a lot to say just to that! He had just gotten a whole stack of videogames for his birthday! There was also a huge bowl of candy back at the lair waiting for him to return and gobble it all up.

Taking a VERY deep breath, Mikey pushed against the rooftop beneath him and fell back on to his shell, staring up at the dark night sky that had no stars but did drive the polluted light of the glamorous human lifestyles throughout the air. The siren from before faded away…off into the distance of some fairly far away back street. It would return with patients or bodies it was never easy to tell. Turning his head to left, the orange masked ninja turtle spotted a distant light. Momentarily he had mistaken it for a rare star, burning brightly enough from far off to be able to penetrate the gaseous light the curtained the city, but alas with a clearer eye he found it to just be a distant radio tower. Figures. The mutant turtle forced himself to sit up once again before turning his eyes towards another, different light. Like the other, it was at a distance as well, though not as far. Some six buildings down, a light was shining from a top floor window.

This time it was something between a whimper and a growl that escaped his throat. He reached for the nunchucks tucked into his belt.

_Spin._

_Spin._

_Spin._

_FLAP!_

Both chains hit the rooftop first as the ninja let them fall from his fingers backwards, the metal sliding smoothly along the skin on the back of his hands. Well, that hadn't been much help either!

Well if Splinter hadn't grounded him! If Raph hadn't blown up at his little prank! If Don would've helped him with his video game! If Leo had just taken five minutes off of his training to be in the main room!

_Growl._

Had that really come from him?

IF ONLY-

_Sigh._

If only he hadn't played that stupid prank that got him grounded in the first place…then he could have-

He could have been there for them. He could have helped. He had tried to stay there, he had-but couldn't.

Bright and hopeful eyes closed, blocking out the light, the dark, the sounds, smells and pollution of all kinds in the city. He couldn't think back to that moment. He just couldn't. So he thought back to afterwards.

* * *

Duck the sword, catch it with the chain, roll the body on to his shoulder, jerk the weapon away so he didn't get stabbed from behind, hear a grunt, step back, immobilize the arms with his nunchucks and place his foot on the sternum. A voice he borrowed, half from Raphael and half from Leonardo.

"Where are my brothers!"

The chocked response, "…Ne-ver…te-"

More pressure, "NOW!"

Teeth gritted, eyes narrowed to a point of near blindness and muscles taunt. Ready for the next movement. Therefor the movement came from the left of the near empty street. Another. Perhaps one more willing to talk. Turn the waist, sharp kick to the side of the downed Foot Ninja's head and a quick jump back.

"Oof!"

Another groan, the senseless idiot had landed on top of the other senseless idiot! Reverse the step, knock away the sword of the newbie, tuck one nunchuck away, use the other with the right hand to bind both gloved handed of Groany there and use the other to pull back the head via the cloth of the outfit that covered the back of the neck.

"I'll ask you since Moaning Myrtle down there don't seem to like midnight conversation. Where. Are. My. Brothers?"

"…"

Tighten the chain of the nunchuck that's wrapped around his hands. A hiss of pain. Mumbling and another groan. The answer he needs and a bit of revenge as the end of the nunchuck knocks against the side of the skull.

The man fell face first into the back of the first guy. Mikey hoped it hurt…a lot. A still stance. Any more sounds of approaches during the night?

…

None for the moment-but that didn't mean absolutely nothing had been, was or would be in the shadows nearby soon.

* * *

The unnoticed sidestep, startled a pigeon from its nest and caused the orange banded turtle to jerk back as his vision was filled with 50 shades of grey feathers. Feeling immediate regret, Mikey moved towards the dark corner the large pigeon had left. A nest, two eggs. He quickly made his way off of the rooftop and down into the nearest fire escape that hugged the side wall of the next building over. OK, reminiscing successfully interrupted by a pigeon.

Don carried a pigeon-puppet in his duffel bag.

It brought a…small smile to his face-which he allowed to remain as he saw the pigeon returning to the next rooftop.

A sudden chiming made him glance down on his belt to his shell cell. He really just picked it up from habit. If anyone had been watching, they would have observed that the mutant turtle's smile melted into a frown as the telecommunication device slowly made its way towards his head. Little green men seemed to strive in New York City.

"Mikey you need to-!"

April then. Spontaneous disconnection decided and carried out. A sad sigh left the young one's mouth as he pried his fingers wrapped around the shell shaped phone apart. It fell-

Clink!

Clank!

It landed on the metal platform of the fire escape beneath his feet and Mikey mentally shrugged at the consequence. It didn't really matter; Donatello had built the things to last. The name made him straighten up momentarily before his mouth began trembling and his hands began to shake without his will. He gritted his teeth, and leaned forward to wrap his hands around the handrail in front of him. It wasn't long though before he sat down, slipping his legs through the vertical bars that supported and grabbing at them with his suddenly still fingers. He leaned forward slowly, drawing out a long breath and slowly closing his eyes until they were completely shielded from the world and he could rest his worried forehead against the same vertical supporting bars.

Another long breath of the suddenly warm night air.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Hold it…and listen.

At 10:00.

Masked eyes snapped open at the slide of cloth against concrete, staring forward into a random spot of shadows.

Foot ninja

His shell cell rung again. He's been spotted now because of it but he's far from outmatched.

There's only five of them.

The Foot will PAY!

* * *

Yeah, I know angst from me isn't the norm but I've been having quite a lot of...luck lately-mostly bad and I'm just feeling real down with everything that's happening. I've been doing mental gymnastics, listening to music, meditating and exercising to an extreme lately because of all this crap and-

Ugh! I know-its a sob story no one wants to hear, but writing still helps me with most of my emotions so...good for me.

It's just...really bad right now.

Still, I'm not too depressed to give you all a smile and thank you for reading. :)

~Moonsetta


End file.
